To Reign In Hell
by believer2
Summary: A church, an angel, the Ruler of Hell, and an old romance.


Author's Notes: I have to say, I got the idea from Glen Duncan's _I, Lucifer_ and utterly raped it.  
I think I might just hate this one. It's 7.55 am and I just finished it and I started somewhere around 3.30. I haven't slept and I have a cold. This fic is full of melodrama and clichés. I didn't want Raphael to be such a _woman_, he was supposed to be a proper male, damnit! But then he just turned out this way, the bastard. I hope Lucifer spanks the tosser. Grr. And Lucifer was supposed to be Lucifer. Now he's like... I dunno. Is he Lucifer enough?

One day I'll write a better one, I promise.

Oh, and thank you to my beta.

To Reign In Hell

It's hot. The sun is high in the cloudless sky and tempers are flaring. The air is dusty, thick, and filthy, but not in the church where a man is standing alone, lean and beautiful and content. He's wearing a white shirt and grey trousers. His matching grey jacket is laying on the wooden bench in a heap. His shoes are polished, and his skin is smooth and tanned. His eyes are silvery blue and his half-length hazel-coloured hair hangs in gentle curls, framing his thin, handsome face. He closes his eyes and tilts his head back and listens to the traffic outside.

His eyes snap open and panic in them turns to recognition which turns to anger, then to something a man cannot define, as strong, slender arms grab him and he is slammed against a cool stone wall and soft but bruising lips press to his.

Raphael relaxes into the rough grip and presses closer to the touch. Cold hands on his waist, on his cheek and he brushes his fingers against smooth, cool skin. Golden, burning eyes search blue ones. Platinum hair against marble skin. 

"Samael..."

A low rumble of laughter against his neck.

"No one has called me that in a long time, _Raphs._"

Lucifer pushes away from the angel and smooths his coat. He hasn't changed since Raphael last saw him a long time ago. Still so proud, still so angry. And still, the most beautiful of them all. The angel feels his old admiration and devotion and hopelessness swell in his chest. And the Son of the Morning knows it. After all, that is why he called Raphael here.

"Why a church, Lucifer?" he asks, walking to a dusty window. "Are you trying to prove to me that you can enter the house of our Father without bursting into flames?" There is humour in his soft, melodic voice.  
The Lightbearer comes to stand behind him, pressing his hips against the angel - reminding him of the sins they have committed and will commit.

"I don't know. For old times' sake?" he murmurs.

"For blasphemy," states Raphael, for he knows how Lucifer's mind works.

"Ah well." The fallen angel sighs and moves to the coolness of the shadow cast by a white statue. "Marvellous, isn't it? So much anger in them." He motions to the line of cars standing in the heat. "Summers. You don't even have to push them really, all they need is the right weather."

Raphael is annoyed. "I didn't answer your invitation just so you could feed your ego."

Lucifer's eyes gleam in the shadows. It fails to unnerve the angel, who merely gazes back with gentle patience.

The Morningstar grins and Raphael's heart is hurting.

"You know why I contacted you," says Lucifer, and the strange thought of how _only he could deliver such a corny line and fail to sound utterly ridiculous_ flickers across Raphael's mind.

"My dear Raphs," whispers the Devil without a hint of malice or mockery in his voice. "You were always such a fool. Such a gorgeous, _confused_ fool. I bet you were torn in half by the War." Slender fingers ghost over his cheek, jaw, neck and slither to cup the back of his head. Raphael is pulled closer, and sin-stained lips brush against his, gently. "Do you think you chose the right side?" An almost inaudible whisper.

Forked tongue against his lips, sliding into his mouth. The kisses were always intoxicating. When they pull apart, Raphael's gaze lingers on Lucifer's swollen lips.

"What did you have to do to make them grant a permission?"

Raphael shakes his head and smiles. Lucifer's left hand is toying with the buttons of the angel's shirt. "I know how they hate it when you descend. They're so worried you might never return."

Raphael grasps Lucifer's hand and pulls the other being into light. "Yes. They worry. They worry I might come to love you more than Him. But I have a reason to be here, too."

Lucifer arches an eyebrow. "Unless you want to inform me that you have decided to join me, I'm afraid I'm not interested."

Raphael just smiles his angelic smile. He knows how much it irritates the Bringer of Light. Finally he speaks. "I have a proposition for you." And already he can see that this one is not going to go down well. There's a dangerous gleam in Morningstar's eyes, but Raphael continues. He's desperate. He does not wish to choose.

"I have talked to Michael-" a snort from Lucifer, which Raphael ignores. "All you have to do is ask. Ask and they will let you come home, ask them and-"

"-and they'll make me beg. _Ask them_," Lucifer's voice is rising and Raphael flinches and recoils. "-and they might take me back, and I will end up serving in Heaven, end up bowing and grovelling in front of humans-" He is shouting now and Raphael catches a glimpse of _Satan_. "I will not sink as low as Michael and Uriel and Gabriel. I will not join those feathered cowards, those spineless lambs who gave up their powers and free will to serve creatures lower than them, falling to their knees when the Son of God– born from a soiled whore– commands them!"

And the world seems darker – has a cloud sailed in front of the sun? – and Lucifer stands tall and wrathful, chest heaving and teeth bared and great white wings unfurled.

"How art thou fallen, oh Lucifer..." moans Raphael, eyes stinging with tears. He spreads his own wings and wraps them around himself, seeking solace. 

Moments pass. Then there's a warm breath in the back of his neck and Lucifer's arms snake under the folded wings and around Raphael's waist.

"Raphs. Better to reign in Hell than to serve in Heaven." And this is what draws Raphael to him. Because Lucifer always knows what he needs. That is the one thing his Father can never give him. _He_ can give His angels what _He_ needs. But Morningstar - the Lightbearer - can give Raphael what Raphael needs.

He allows Lucifer to back him against the wall and he shudders as his feathers rub against a rough stone surface. The Fallen one's wings are white, but Raphael can see the differences. They lack the silvery gleam that his own wings have. There is a hint of envy in Lucifer's eyes and Raphael smiles, hands lingering on the other being's belt.

"You're envious. It does not suit you, Oh Son of the Morning."

"I envy the appearance. Not what it means." _Not His love._

Raphael chuckles. "You, the most beautiful of us all, have no need for envy." And reluctantly he pushes  
Lucifer away and walks to the bench where his jacket still lays in a shapeless bundle.

"This is not the place for this," he murmurs. Lucifer glances at the wooden Crucifix on the wall and laughs.

"I think this is the perfect place." 

Raphael shifts uncertainly. The Devil gives a resigned sigh. 

"But for the sake of old times, I'll let you have your way."

Folding his wings away, Lucifer steps through the door into the scorching sun and the angel follows him.

He will follow him, Lucifer knows. In the end, he will follow him all the way down. _And they will reign._


End file.
